


Maybe This Time

by Sandrine Shaw (Sandrine)



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Cohabitation, Developing Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Insecurity, Kissing, Nightmares, Sharing a Bed, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2020-12-22 05:23:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21070283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandrine/pseuds/Sandrine%20Shaw
Summary: Lisa's back in town, asking for Cisco's help again. Maybe one day, he'll know how to say no to her - but today is not that day.





	Maybe This Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rivulet027](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rivulet027/gifts).

> Thanks to Glitterburn for the beta! :D

It's been a long day. 

Scratch that, it's been a long few years, ever since the particle accelerator exploded, turning Cisco's life and everything he thought he knew upside down, and it seems to be getting worse the longer they're at this. The villains are getting more vicious and the problems are getting more complex – time travel and the multiverse and the Negative Speed Force – and even though it means Cisco is getting to do stuff he never even dreamed of a decade ago, sometimes it's just _exhausting_.

He unlocks his front door and pushes inside, ready to crash in front of the TV, order a Big Belly Burger and not think about dark matter or alternate earths for at least twelve hours straight.

"Hello Cisco," a voice purrs, and he releases an embarrassing yelp of surprise because no, no, no, no! No one's supposed to be here. The only people who even have the key are Barry and Cait and his mum, and Mrs. Hernandez from 4B who sometimes waters his plants when he's holed up at S.T.A.R. Labs for days because he's busy helping the Flash save the city or stop Nazis from another earth.

None of which explains why Lisa Snart is sitting on his favorite comfy chair, her long legs elegantly crossed and a smirk on her face. It makes her look a little like something between Sharon Stone in _Basic Instinct_ and a Bond baddy ready to give the grand villain speech before preparing to do away with the hero in a creative and excruciatingly painful manner. 

"It's been a while. I hope you still remember me." 

Lisa coyly lowers her lashes, and Cisco wonders if people really fall for the shy, demure act of hers. Then again, he did fall for it himself once upon a time, and quite spectacularly so. 

"Yeah, right, as if anyone could forget you," he mutters, glaring at her. He infuses enough bitterness into his tone that it can't possibly be mistaken for a compliment, but Lisa beams at him anyway.

"Oh, Cisco, you say the nicest things! I haven't been in town in a while. I had to get away for a bit after Mick told me about Lenny." Something passes over her face, a sadness so profound that it makes her look almost like a different person, and for once, Cisco doesn't think she's faking it. It's gone as fast as it appeared, the coquettish smile and gleam in her eyes back in place. "But you know how it is. There's no place like home, after all."

She looks sweet and lovely and defenseless, everything Cisco knows in his heart of hearts that she's not, but it's hard to remain unwavering and dismissive when faced with her wide doe-eyes. He crosses his arms in front of his chest, trying to look appropriately forbidding. "Okay, but you can't just break into my place. I mean, obviously you _can_, but you really shouldn't. Like, even if you don't care about the whole law-breaking thing, it's a total violation of privacy."

What the hell is he even talking about? If Lisa has no regard for the law and how breaking and entering is a bad thing, she'll probably care even less about breaching the sanctity of someone's home. She's _Golden Glider_, a literal supervillain, and just because she hasn't been on Team Flash's radar for a couple of years doesn't mean she's suddenly reformed.

"I'm sorry, Cisco. I really am," she says, in that dulcet tone that implies she's really, really not. "I just didn't know where else to go. I'm afraid I need your help again."

He can feel a headache coming on. He should be calling Barry so the Flash can take care of this. Or the police. He definitely shouldn't be asking, "What's going on?" and setting himself up for being conned by Lisa Snart yet again, because once may be unlucky and twice is careless – but three times is basically asking for it. Then again, she did need their help when her creep of a father planted a bomb in her head, and Cisco doesn't really want to send her away when she's in a bad place. If she's in a bad place.

She looks away and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "I may have... ruffled a few feathers. Got myself on the bad side of some very dangerous people. And now they've put out a hit on me. I just need to lie low for a little bit."

"Don't you have safe houses for that? Or friends who could help. You know, loyalty among Rogues and all." 

"I don't really have anyone else," she says in that small voice that he remembers from when she told him he was the first real friend she'd ever made, and even though he knows that she's playing him, he can feel himself softening towards her. "Please, Cisco. It's just for a little while. I promise I won't be any trouble."

Oh, damn it. Cisco rubs a hand over his face. He's fairly sure that Lisa is physically incapable of not being trouble. Trouble is, like, ingrained in her DNA like the meta gene. Except that it didn't need a particle accelerator accident to activate. But saying no to Lisa is still as hard as it was when she first sidled up to him in the bar, blonde wig and all. And if he sends her away now and something happens to her, he'll never forgive himself. 

"Okay, but just for a few days. And we'll have the Flash look into it and see if your story checks out tomorrow."

She stands and saunters over to him with swaying hips and her Bond villain smile. "You're the best, Cisco," she coos and leans in. 

He almost expects her to kiss him, trying very hard not to lean in towards her, but she turns left the last second. Her lips land on his cheek, gentle and chaste, and Cisco allows himself to acknowledge, at least in the privacy of his own head, that it's good to see her again.

#

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Barry asks in a low voice, because Lisa is hanging around somewhere nearby and he clearly doesn't want to be overheard. "Letting her stay with you, I mean. You're not exactly objective when it comes to Lisa."

Cisco gives him a wordless, pointed look – because _really, Barry?!_; which one of them used _time travel_ to grab a Snart from the past to enlist his help on a mission? – until Barry awkwardly ducks his head and rubs the back of his neck.

"I'm just saying, if the Santinis really did send Dillon and Scudder after her, it might be better to put her at S.T.A.R. Labs where we have security measures in place."

"Don't be naive, honey," Lisa says from right behind them, both of their heads guiltily snapping around towards her. With her body casually brushing against Cisco's, she pushes between them and steps towards the computer consoles, letting a well-manicured finger trail lazily between the buttons. "Maybe you think of your security as state of the art, but it's hardly going to stop a professional. Getting in and out of your little sanctuary is child's play for someone with the proper skills. You don't even need meta powers to get past your sad excuse of a surveillance program."

"Hey! That's my program you're talking about!" Cisco's protest is mostly perfunctory. He's been doing his best to make S.T.A.R. Labs Rogue-proof, but there's no denying that it's been one of his less successful projects. 

"Sorry, Cisco." Lisa's lips twitch into a teasing smile. "Maybe one day I could do a pentest for you. Show you how easy it is to slip inside. Give you a rundown on where you need to improve the system." 

When she turns to Barry, her voice loses to flirty lilt. "But my point is, I'm no more protected here than I am at Cisco's apartment. And when he's around, at least I feel safer."

And wow, if that doesn't go to his head faster than the crappy wine Caitlin always brings when they're having one of their team nights to celebrate a big win! Cisco is pretty sure he's wearing the most ridiculous, dopey smile right now, which might explain the look Barry is giving him from under his cowl.

"Fine," Barry grudgingly concedes. "But if you try anything, don't think I'll hesitate running you straight into Iron Heights."

"Don't worry your pretty little head, Barry, I like Cisco too much to hurt him. I've promised him I wouldn't be any trouble. So I'll let you get on with the hero business while I'll head back to his place, lock myself inside and wait there like a good little housewife. Don't be too long, sweetie." 

Blowing a kiss, she turns to go, leaving Cisco and Barry to stare after her. 

Cisco is still basking in the warm glow of affection when Barry says, "Um. Did she just call me 'Barry'?"

Cisco mentally rewinds the conversation and groans. Whatever; what's one more person who knows the Flash's identity? Maybe he should just skip the cowl when he designs the next version of the suit. At least that way, the endless 'chinstrap or not' debate would finally be over.

#

Most of the days, Lisa does what she promised to do and lays low, staying in. Cisco doesn't really think she'd be in any more danger at S.T.A.R. Labs, because if someone were to find her here, it's not like he'd be much good now that he's not Vibe anymore. But when she's around at the lab, Barry gets a little awkward and Caitlin gets twitchy and Iris is giving Lisa looks like she isn't sure whether to keep her distance or start up a conversation and team up with her against Barry and Cisco, which is easily the most terrifying thing Cisco has faced since that time when the Reverse Flash threatened to put a vibrating hand through his chest.

So, yeah, Cisco is grateful when Lisa doesn't visit Team Flash's headquarters and uses her charm and wit to get under their skin while they should be focusing on outsmarting whatever meta is currently causing havoc in Central.

And maybe, just maybe, it's also because he doesn't feel like sharing.

Having Lisa stay with him is... comfortable in a way he didn't expect. He never felt lonely before; he's got his friends, and his family loves him, and it's not like he has enough spare time to get bored. But returning to Lisa after a busy day at the lab is different to coming home to an empty apartment.

"Tell me about your day," she says, and then she listens to him rant about the problem _du jour_ over boxes of Mexican take-out, chiming in with solutions that are so out-of-the-box (and, granted, usually not strictly speaking legal) that he hadn't thought of them himself.

She talks about the time she spent out of town. Cisco isn't surprised to hear that she stayed in Gotham for a while – apparently, she and Batwoman ("Katie," Lisa says with a smirk, making Cisco wonder if there's any hero out there whose secret identity is actually a secret) have a complicated and somewhat tumultuous relationship. 

"I moved to the West Coast for a bit afterwards," Lisa tells him. "I did some... contract work, but most of the time I was just lying on the beach, soaking up the sun and flirting with surfer boys. Lenny would have hated it."

"The heat or watching you getting cozy with the guys?" Cisco asks, making Lisa laugh.

"Both, obviously."

She's smiling, but there's the same melancholy in her eyes that's always there when she casually brings up her brother. It tugs at Cisco's heartstrings, and he wishes he had the right words to comfort her. "I'm sorry about your brother. I—I know what it's like losing someone, missing them like that. Like a hole in your life that just won't go away. It sucks."

"Sounds like you're speaking from experience."

He shrugs. "Dante. My brother – you probably remember him from when you kidnapped us to make me work on your guns? He's—He died in a car crash. Four years ago now. I sometimes still catch myself thinking 'I have to tell Dante' before I remember that he's gone."

Lisa reaches out, her small, slim-fingered hand covering his. "I'm sorry, Cisco."

"I used to be so mad. At the drunk driver who killed him. At myself for not spending enough time with him and for fighting so much all the time. Even at Barry. I didn't understand why he couldn't just run back in time and save Dante. It would have been so easy for him." Rationally, he now gets why Barry doesn't, how saving a single life isn't worth the potential ripple effects caused by changing the timeline, but on some level, it still smarts.

With a wry, sad smile, Lisa squeezes his hand. "I don't think it works like that. My brother died while traveling on a time ship, and they still couldn't bring him back. Mick said—He said Lenny once tried to change the past, give us both a different kind of childhood, but it didn't stick. Time... finds a way, I guess."

Cisco chokes on a laugh. "Wait a moment! Did you just misquote _Jurassic Park_ at me?" he splutters, impressed and amused and a little outraged.

"_Maybe_," Lisa hedges, drawing out the word into a long drawl. "It made you laugh, didn't it?"

It did, and Cisco marvels how easy Lisa makes it seem, and how fast and well she fitted herself into his life, like she belongs. He doesn't like to think about things returning to normal when she inevitably disappears again, back into her own turbulent life, leaving him behind.

#

Cisco wakes on the couch with a start. His heart is racing so fast and hard that he can feel its beat at the base of his throat. The digital clock on the TV glows green in the dark, telling him that it's just past three. At first, he doesn't know what interrupted his sleep, ready to lie back down and close his eyes again when a noise from the bedroom comes through the closed door.

It sounds like someone in distress, a pained whimper, and Cisco's first thought is that Dillon or Scudder or whoever else came after Lisa is here, in his apartment, and they're hurting her.

He jumps to his feet, powering through the few seconds of vertigo from getting up too fast, and rushes towards the door. He's ready to put himself between the attackers and Lisa if he has to, even though he doesn't have his powers anymore, but when he rushes in, the room's empty except for Lisa in the bed, the covers twisted between her legs and her arms pulling against the pillow like it's trapping her. 

"Go away," she pleads in a choked voice. 

For a moment, Cisco thinks she means him, that she doesn't want him to see her upset and distressed like this, and the apology is already on his tongue. But then she cries, "Please, Dad," and he realizes that she's not awake at all.

He knows what kind of a man Lewis Snart was; he's seen her scars and heard the trepidation in her tone when she came to them worried about her brother, but the way the nightmare has her all twisted up in fear and anguish makes Cisco's blood freeze. Even when he was removing a bomb from her head, Lisa had been calm and controlled. Seeing her like this and hearing that even from beyond death, her father still has such a hold over her, is hard to stomach.

Cisco sits down on the edge of the bed and hesitantly reaches out. His fingers barely graze her arm when she jerks up.

"What—?" Her eyes are wide and restless, frantically searching the room like she isn't sure where she is, before they land on him. "Cisco."

He holds up his hands in a placating gesture. "Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you. Or barge in here like that. But you were... um, talking and I was worried that someone got to you."

"I just—It was just a nightmare."

_Just_ a nightmare. Jeez. She makes it sound so casual and dismissive, so easily brushed aside that he doubts it's a rare event. "You get them a lot?"

Lisa shrugs. She smoothes back her hair and squares her shoulders, and just like that, she's the same confident woman who walked up to him at a bar all those years ago, the one who looks like nothing can ever touch her. And if her smile is a little more tired and brittle now, it might just as well be a trick of the light.

"Now and then. They're always pretty much the same, so I'm mostly used to them by now."

Cisco recognizes the brush-off as Lisa shutting down the conversation, and it's not like he doesn't get why. Talking about his nightmares isn't exactly something he enjoys either. He stands, awkwardly wiping his palms on his pyjama bottoms. "I'll let you get back to sleep."

He's not a vindictive guy, and he generally believes in due process, but a part of him is really glad that Cold iced his father. Of all the things Leonard Snart should have gone to prison for, killing the man who made Lisa's childhood and probably a good part of her adult life hell and who keeps giving her night terrors even years after he's gone really isn't one of them. 

"Cisco?" Lisa calls when he's almost out of the door.

He turns around, trying to force a smile back onto his face, but it probably looks more like a grimace.

"Thanks for checking up on me."

There's something off about her voice, a kind of surprise and fragility in her tone that suggests what Cisco did is anything unusual. It makes him think that she probably doesn't have many people taking care of her in her life.

"Always," he says, with feeling, wishing he could somehow make her understand that it's more than a phrase or an empty promise, or how much he means it.

#

He wakes up the next night too. But this time, when he opens his eyes, Lisa's face is upside down above him.

The speech center of his brain reboots before everything else does, and he hears himself screaming, loud and embarrassing. He flails, legs getting caught up between the cushions. The abrupt movement sends him sliding off the couch and onto the floor next to the table, where he lands with a soft thud on the carpet. It's not as soft as it looks. The leg of the table digging into his back is not particularly soft either.

"Ow," he says pitifully.

Sitting on the armrest, Lisa looks down at him, not even trying to pretend that she isn't laughing at his little show of clumsiness.

"It wasn't that funny," he says with a pout as he pulls himself up.

"I don't know, Cisco. From up here, it was pretty funny." Lisa's smile is teasing, but her tone is warm, and Cisco can't bring himself to stay mad at her.

He gingerly sits back down on the edge of the couch, pulling up one of his legs and tugging it underneath himself. "Did you need anything? Other than trying to kill me in my sleep, I mean."

At once, Lisa's cheerfulness is gone, like it was wiped off, and Cisco doesn't think it was his bad joke that killed the mood. She averts her gaze, looking down to where she's toying with the hemline of the long tee she's been wearing to sleep, pulling at a loose thread. 

"It's okay," Cisco assures her. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

The scary thing is, it's true. Even if she told him that she was planning some big heist or that she was going to reassemble the Rogues, he'd probably forgive her. Like, he'd 100% try to talk her out of it, but it wouldn't be a deal breaker.

Lisa still isn't looking at him. "Would you—Do you think you could stay with me tonight?"

"Stay with—In the bedroom, you mean? Like, in your bed? My bed, I mean. Are you—"

"Just to sleep," Lisa interrupts his babbling. "I'm not trying to seduce you. Trust me, I'd go differently about it if it was that." She flashes him a quick, wicked grin. "I'm good at seduction."

Cisco almost chokes. Yes, he very much believes that self-assessment, considering how they met.

"I'm not so good at this," Lisa adds, and her smile dims. "I just don't want to be alone tonight. Being back in Central... it brings up all those memories. And they seem to know how to find a way into my dreams."

She grimaces, reminding Cisco of her reluctance to talk about her nightmares the previous night, and he hates that he feels she has to force herself to share things that she's not comfortable sharing to get him to help her.

"Of course I'll sleep with you!" he says, before he can think about his choice of words. He quickly back-peddles. "I mean, not sleep with you. Just, in the same bed. Totally platonically."

At least he's managed to make Lisa laugh again. 

"Well," she teases, "if you put it like that..."

#

Nothing happens that night.

Sure, at first it's a little awkward and weird, lying next to a woman Cisco is very much attracted to and who asked him to come share her bed to keep her nightmares at bay. He listens as her breathing turns soft and regular, watching her features lose their sharp edge in sleep. 

Her body is angled towards him, hair fanned out on the pillow like a dark halo, her delicate fingers curled around the edge of the covers. The urge to reach out itches in Cisco's fingertips. 

It makes him feel a little like a creeper, so he forces himself to stop watching her. 

The mattress creaks as he turns onto his back, the sound impossibly loud in his ears. He freezes and holds his breath, but Lisa doesn't stir. 

For what feels like endless hours, Cisco keeps staring at the ceiling, wide awake and unable to go back to sleep or make the tension ease from his limbs, hyper-aware of every single inch of space between them. The distance is at once too vast and far too small, and Cisco's chest is tight with longing and the bittersweet presentiment of heartache yet to come.

#

In the morning, Lisa's side of the bed is empty, the mattress cold.

For a moment panic tightens in Cisco's gut. But before the queasiness can take hold, he hears the clatter of dishes from the kitchen. He sleepily rises and follows the sounds, the floorboards making soft noises under his bare feet. The smell of coffee reaches him before he gets to the kitchen, and he lingers in the doorway, watching Lisa rummage around in his cupboards. She's still in her sleep shirt, the breakfast table set behind her, and the domesticity of the scene hits him like a sucker-punch.

"Look who's finally awake! Good morning, sleepy-head." She grins at him and he can't help smiling back, hoping that it doesn't look as dopey as he feels.

"You made breakfast!" he exclaims, like an idiot who got a degree in Stating the Obvious.

Lisa shrugs. "Well, I'm a terrible cook. But I made coffee, if that counts."

"Say no more! All my friends are bad cooks. You're gonna fit right in. And hey, more chance for me to woo you with my slightly-better-than-mediocre cooking skills." He grabs a pan from the drawer next to the stove. "How do you feel about omelette?"

"Sounds good." Lisa hops on the counter next to him, watching as he gets the ingredients from the fridge. "So, the Flash's not a hero in the kitchen?"

"Ha, no, Barry's culinary skills don't surpass pancakes and Big Belly Burger. And whatever you do, never – _never_ – eat anything Iris cooks! Seriously, don't! Her pancakes are Team Flash's secret weapon to defeat our most fearsome enemies." He adds a pinch of nutmeg, grandma Teresa's secret ingredient, while beating the eggs and milk in a bowl, too distracted for a moment to realize that Lisa isn't following his joke with some teasing of her own.

When he stops his relentless stirring and looks at her, she's watching him with a strange, somber expression. "I don't see Iris or Barry offering to cook for me anytime soon, Cisco. They're—I'm not their friend."

She's right, of course, and Cisco is well aware that the others don't necessarily share his fondness for Lisa. But they don't know her like he does. "You could be."

"Maybe, one day," she says, but the hesitance in her tone suggests that she doesn't really believe it herself. It makes Cisco desperate to reassure her and wipe away the hint of sadness in her smile.

"Look, just don't shoot at them – well, actually... best not to shoot at anyone, if you can help it – and don't rob any banks. You'll see they'll warm up to you with super speed," he suggests. "And the next thing you know, you're invited to karaoke team night on Wednesdays and you're exchanging fashion tips with Killer Frost. Yep, I can see it!"

Lisa chuckles. When Cisco pour the eggs into the pan, she slides off the counter and watches him quietly, a small, fond smile on her lips that sends a warm glow to his face and unnerves him in ways that he can't name.

"What?" His nervous laughter dies in his throat when she reaches out and touches his cheek. 

"Nothing," she says, and then she leans down and kisses him, sweet and lingering and full of promise. So different from that first kiss when she put the moves on him in order to coerce his help with the guns, or the second one when she was thanking him for removing the bomb.

When she breaks away, he stares at her, licking his lips. They taste like sugary chapstick. "Doesn't feel like nothing."

She looks at him for a long moment. "Hmm. You're right. Maybe it's something."

This time, they both move into the kiss at the same time.

The omelette gets burned. Neither of them cares.

#

After a week, Cisco forces himself to stop second-guessing Lisa and enjoy their time together instead of constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Perhaps that's why it hurts so much when he comes home early on a Thursday and finds Lisa on the street outside his apartment complex, locked in what, from the distance, looks like a fierce argument with none other than Rosa Dillon. Cisco grabs his phone, ready to send an S.O.S. to Barry so the Flash can speed in and stop the Top and Mirror Master before they have a chance to hurt Lisa. 

But Dillon doesn't seem to be using her powers and her better (well, or maybe worse) half is nowhere in sight. And even though Lisa is always good at hiding her emotions, her glare and her posture suggest annoyance rather than fear for her life. 

Cisco keeps his thumb hovering above the Flash alert button on his screen as he steps towards them. "Lisa? What's going on here?"

Lisa whips around towards him, and Cisco doesn't think he's imagining the guilty expression that passes over her face, like she knows she's been caught red-handed. 

Behind her, Dillon scowls at him. "None of your business," she snaps. 

Lisa glares at her. "Just shut up, Rosa," she says, her voice incriminatingly harsh and devoid of fear. 

Cisco slides his phone back into his pocket. He doesn't think they're going to be needing the Flash here today. It should, by all accounts, be a happy thought, but Cisco's bitterness outweighs the relief. When Lisa turns to him, her eyes are pleading, and he wills himself not to soften towards her again. 

"Can we please talk inside, Cisco?"

He nods jerkily and walks ahead, not turning to see if Lisa is following or how the situation with Dillon resolves. He can't believe that he let himself be played _yet again_. Or rather, he can believe it, because he knows himself and he knows Lisa – but _dammit_, he really should have seen this coming.

"So, I guess the Santinis never put out a hit on you, did they?" he asks when they're both standing in his living room, the few feet of distance between them impossibly vast and impassable. He tries not to look at the couch where they made out this morning before he left, the memories and disappointment choking him up.

"Cisco—"

He holds up a hand to cut off her excuse. He doesn't want to hear it, because he's sure she'll make it sound convincing and he'll fall for it, and he's absolutely, 100%, once and for all done with that. "Are you even _physically capable_ of telling the truth?"

"I wasn't lying," Lisa insists fervently. She looks away. "I was just... exaggerating a little, maybe? Rosa really is mad at me, and she was looking for me like I said. It just might have been not as... serious as I was making it seem."

"Then why come to me? Why pretend you needed my help when you could have, I don't know, just booked a hotel room or hashed it out with your Rogue frenemy like you did just now right in the street? Why pretend like you—like this meant something to you?"

_—like _I_ meant something to you_, he doesn't say, because it's bad enough that he's let her take a stab at his heart. Doesn't mean he needs to pick up the knife and hand it back to her while painting a bullseye on his chest so she can't possibly miss. He's not that much of a masochist.

Lisa wraps her arms around her chest, hugging herself, like she physically needs to hold herself together. "I wasn't pretending! I just—I came back into town, and everything was too fucking much, and I was missing Lenny, and I was—I didn't want to be alone in some anonymous hotel room or in a safe house where everything reminded me of my brother who went and got himself killed because he had to play hero. That's all. It was just... I was _lonely_, okay? I know you think I had some kind of agenda and I get why, but I didn't. I just wanted to be around a friendly face. And you were the only one I could think of. I wasn't conning you."

She isn't looking at him, but it's hard to miss the wet glint of tears in her eyes, and Cisco hates how real it looks. He wonders if it _is_ real. Because, yeah, he can see it. It makes sense for someone with Lisa's past to make up some convoluted story to get him to let her stay instead of admitting this kind of vulnerability.

Her smile is sad when she turns to him. "I know you don't believe me, but I really am sorry. I'll pack up my stuff, and then I'll be on my way."

Lisa turns to go and Cisco instinctively reaches for her, his hand closing around her wrist. There's a moment when she goes tense, and he remembers that she'll probably associate that kind of touch with violence. The thought makes his stomach turn, and he quickly releases her.

"Don't go." He stumbles over his words. "I mean, unless you want to? But I'd really like you to stay. Just... no more lies."

Lisa takes a step back towards him. Her expression is guarded, overcast by shadows of caution and hesitance, and Cisco wishes he could wipe them away just like that. But he knows it's not going to be that easy or that quick.

"Sometimes, lying's easier." 

Like when 'someone is trying to kill me' is not as emotionally fraught as admitting that you're lonely. In a way, Cisco gets it.

"Okay. But don't lie about the important stuff."

The hint of a smile tugs at the corners of Lisa's mouth. It's small and fragile, but it's genuine, it's real, and all the more beautiful because of that. 

"I'll try," she agrees.

At last, the tension bleeds away from her shoulders and the rigid line of her back, and when Cisco reaches out, she lets herself be pulled into his arms, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

"It's gonna be okay," Cisco promises quietly. He allows himself to believe that, this time, it's the truth.

End.

**Author's Note:**

> This was a bit outside my usual sandbox! I hope you enjoyed it anyway. Let me know! :)


End file.
